On Being Human
by Joseph G. Ramsey
Right now
Somewhere
South of here
Someone is breaking the law:
Sneaking out into the desert
–trespassing private property
cutting through government wire
ingeniously avoiding ICE agents
and National Guard units
who stand spitting tobacco juice and
cradling sub-machine guns —
travelling unnoticed
without proper papers
for miles and miles
delivering jugs of water
to discreet locations
where the North-bound
–“border crossers”–
–“ illegal aliens”–
may find them
crack them open
and drink their fill,
and thereby not become
so dehydrated
so overheated
as to die
in the dust
(nor so desperate
as to lose faith
in humanity
altogether).
Beside the bottles
these bearers of water plant
small red flags in the sand,
knee-high markers that can only be seen
By those who are thirsty
and know where to look.
If you would ask these water-bearers to stop
If you would make them stop
If you would give aid to those who would stop them
If you are the kind of person who would force these guardians
to disown their adopted cousins
and let them die,
clasping cacti thorns in the skeleton desert
Then I say it’s you
Who must be stopped.
Perhaps it is you who should be cast out
Into the desert.
Perhaps it is you who are the Alien
In our human midst.
What human being can feel safe
With the likes of you around?
